


Home

by Scribbles97



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Family Reunions, Season 3 haitus trailer, where's jeff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 19:21:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14775686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scribbles97/pseuds/Scribbles97
Summary: Inspired by the teaser posted for the season 3 hiatus and all the speculation of the possibility of seeing jeff!





	Home

The lumpy sofa was hardly comfortable for his aching back, but he wouldn’t complain. It was only temporary after all. He wanted to slouch and let his back curve in a way that was so much more comfortable than sitting straight. 

The tension running through him wouldn’t allow him to relax though. Watching the door, he might as well have had a ramrod holding him upright. 

 

Her hand was light on his shoulder, but it still felt like a shock as he looked up to her and her gentle smile, 

“ _ Relax _ .”

His snort turned to a cough, pulling on his back making him reach to support himself. 

 

“What do I  _ say _ ?” He sighed, giving in to the ache and starting to slouch. 

 

He felt the now familiar swell in his chest begin to choke him as his vision blurred. Swiping at his eyes he sniffed, clearing his throat in a hopeless attempt to hide the tears. 

Not that he knew why he bothered, she’d seen him cry plenty in the last three weeks. Cry for his son’s, cry for his friends, cry for all that had happened. He was surprised he had any tears left. 

 

“I’m sure you’ll find something,” She assured him quietly, squeezing his shoulder again. 

 

Coughing, he took a long breath, hoping it would be enough to keep him calm when they arrived. 

 

The noise outside the room was enough, without her murmuring behind him, 

“Here they come.”

 

Involuntarily, he stood, unsure how to react to what he knew was about to happen. It had been so long, he knew so much would have changed. He wasn’t sure he was ready to face the reality of what was. 

 

He wasn’t sure who he had expected first, probably any one of the boys, or all of them at once. It wasn’t that he minded, it was just what he anticipated. 

 

Seeing his mother stood opposite him, wasn’t what he had expected. She looked more worn than he ever thought he had seen her, more worry lines were clear on her face with the bags under her eyes only partly hidden by her glasses. 

He could tell she was feeling the same he was as she blinked hard before walking over to him.

 

“Jeff,” She sighed, reaching up to his cheek wordlessly checking he was truly there and not just part of her imagination. 

 

“I’m home, Mom.” He choked out, forcing a smile so that he didn’t cry. 

 

Her hug was fierce and tight, but her frame told a different story as she shook in his arms. Tightening his hold he pressed his face to her head, his brain still trying to catch up with what was happening in that moment. His  _ mother _ was there. 

It had been years and he had never thought he’d get to see her again. For so long he had wondered if he had killed her with a broken heart. Finally, he had an answer and it didn’t seem real. 

 

“My boy,” She murmured, stepping back to brush off his shoulders. He couldn’t help but laugh as he reached for a tissue from the coffee table and handed it to her. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Was all he could find to say, scratching the back of his head. 

The story was long and complicated, he wasn’t sure if he was quite ready to go there at that moment. Her quick shake of her head told him he didn’t need to as she brushed his cheek. 

 

“You’re home now, no need to apologise for that.”

 

Both looked up at the sound of the door, and he suddenly remembered there were others that he needed to see. 

 

Alan was the one that had opened the door, taller than Jeff ever expected him to be, all long limbs and shaggy hair. He stood there for a moment, mouth agape as he clearly processed what he was seeing. 

 

The swell in Jeff’s throat was back as he shook his head, 

“Allie?”

 

His mouth snapped closed as he blinked hard and stepped further in to the room. Jeff wanted to go to him, to scoop up his youngest as if he were just ten years old again and the little boy he had been when he had gone. 

His gut told him to wait, to let Alan go to him, give him a minute to process. He had been so much younger than his brothers, it had been him jeff had felt most guilty about leaving. Unintentionally, he had drifted from Alan, too busy wrapped up in business and rescues and work. All the little things he should have been there for he hadn’t realised were happening until it was too late and he was gone. 

 

“Dad!” 

 

Neither needed to say any more as they met halfway across the room, Alan the first to sob as he reached his father’s arms. That time, he was the one holding tight, wishing he never had to let go. It surprised him to find that the son he had left as the shortest was now on a level with him, just as tall and just as broad. 

He couldn’t help but crack at the realisation. 

 

He blew out a breath as he pulled back, wiping at his eyes as he coughed over a sob. Holding Alan at arms length he checked him up and down, ensuring he wasn’t imagining the change in height. 

 

“When did you get so tall Kid?”

 

Alan laughed through a sniff, wiping his nose on his sleeve. He shook his head as he went to hug his father again and Jeff didn’t protest. 

 

“Where are your brothers?” He murmured, feeling bereft of his other four sons. 

 

“We-- uh,” He coughed, pulling back to scratch at his head, “We decided to… erm…”

 

“Take it in turns to come in,” his mother filled in for Alan.

 

“Yeah,” Alan nodded, turning back clearly still dazed, “The doc’s said they didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

 

Jeff smiled, shaking his head as he reached up to ruffle the blond hair. He wouldn’t admit he liked the thought, getting chance to adjust to each of them one at a time. Part of his worry had been them all being too much, five sons, his mother, his friends, all with their own changes and reactions. It was a lot to process individually. 

 

“Virgil thought of it,” Val murmured from her corner.

 

Of course he had. The quietly loudest of the five, always thinking of how to make things easier. That was one of those things he knew wouldn’t have changed, those little things that would always be the same. 

 

It was an added relief that the next time the door opened, he found the Virgil hadn’t changed in the slightest. His broad frame still filled the door, and when he strode over to hug him, his arms were just as strong as ever. 

Strong on the outside but still so fragile in reality. 

 

Neither said anything, both cried silently. Jeff knew he’d have to catch up with Virgil later, privately when they could truly talk without any listening ears.

 

Too soon the door opened again with the prompt announcement of,

 

“Hey, my turn!” 

 

Virgil pulled away, rolling his eyes with a forced smile, 

 

“You don’t change, do you Gords?”

 

He grinned as he ducked under Jeff’s arm, where he had always ended up when he knew he was causing trouble of some description. 

Jeff had to glance to Alan, frowning when he looked back to Gordon again, 

“Is Alan …  _ taller _ than--”

 

“Don’t.” Virgil groaned, “We won’t hear the end of it for a week,”

 

He had to laugh, that at least sounded normal. Normal he could do, he knew how to go along with and act as if nothing had happened. It didn’t matter that under his arm, Gordon was more muscular. He could ignore that fact for the time being, pretend that it wasn’t probably his fault that he’d spent too much time doing lengths in the pool. 

 

“They’re just jealous,” Gordon grinned, looking up to him, “None of their news is as exciting as mine.”

 

Raising an eyebrow, Jeff nodded slowly. Gordon always proclaimed to have the biggest news of everyone, he’d learnt to just go along with it to appease him. The reminder quietly got to him though, each of them would have their own news, big stories to them that he should have been there to hear first hand not after the event. 

 

He couldn’t help himself, he had to ask,

“What news might that be?”

 

Gordon’s face fell, and for a moment Jeff wondered if he hadn’t been meant to ask. His son looked over to his mother, silently asking permission. Whatever it was, it was clear it was big. The lump in his throat swelled again and he had to look away. 

If he hadn’t have gone he’d have already known. 

 

If he hadn’t have gone he wouldn’t have had to ask. 

 

If he hadn’t have gone he’d have been there to see it all unfold himself. 

 

His mother’s single word was the deepest stab in the gut, 

 

“Later.” 

 

What couldn’t he know in that moment? And  _ why _ ? 

 

Gordon’s pout was answer enough, it truly was something big. All of a sudden he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. How much had his son’s lives actually changed as a result of him leaving? 

How much did he had to change to fit back in?

 

“ _ Dad _ .”

 

Jeff had never realised how much meaning one word could hold. Only two of the boys had said it, but each had carried an entirely different weight. 

Alan had said it with such enthusiasm, as though he had always believed that the time would come for him to greet him in such a way again. 

John’s breath sounded more hurt than Jeff had ever intended, like he had believed the exact opposite of the youngest. Jeff knew he probably blamed himself, and he swore to do whatever it took to fix it. 

 

He could see the tears shining in his eyes as John shook his head, he felt his own throat swell shut as he reached out to him. Where Gordon had built muscle, John had lost, he was so much skinnier than Jeff remembered. It was probably his own fault, the stress, and hurt of his leaving enough to push things over the edge.

None of them had wanted him to go to the meeting that day, if he’d have listened he’d have never been gone for so long. 

 

“John,” He choked out, trying to ignore the hitch in his voice, “oh god,  _ John _ ,”

 

He seemed to shrink down in his arms, becoming the little lost boy again. Jeff wanted to fold up and forget all that had happened. He wished he could go back and fix it all, his son, his entire family was broken and it was down to him.

All down to him. 

 

He’d said he wouldn’t cry in front of them, that he’d spent too much time crying and that he needed to start being strong again for them. It was time for him to step up and be the father he hadn’t been able to be for too long. 

 

Stifling a sob he clung tighter to John, shaking his head as he glanced back to the rest of his family, 

 

“I’m  _ sorry _ ,” He pleaded, “I’m--”

 

“Jeff,” His mother cut him off, reaching to his shoulder, “This wasn’t planned, it wasn’t something you could help, it’s not your fault son.”

 

Virgil nodded, moving to wrap an arm around John’s shoulders, 

“She’s right Dad.”

 

He looked between them shaking his head, 

“If I hadn’t hav-”

 

Virgil’s hand was tight on his shoulder,

“Dad,  _ don’t _ .”

 

He stepped back, sinking down to the sofa as he gulped for air. Each breath didn’t seem like enough as his throat swelled with the ache of tears. The others surrounded him, Alan and John sticking close to his sides. Breathing in, they smelt of sand, and beach, and  _ home _ . They were his family and they were just as he wanted to remember them, smiling and laughing as they always used to.

There had been times when he had thought he would never see them again, that his family would never know what had truly happened. As weeks had become months and months years, he’d forgotten what it was like to have them all there, he’d started to forget how they spoke, and laughed. He never realised how much just the smell of his family around him could be of a comfort. 

It had been his only wish to see them once more, to tell them how much he loved them, to give his boys the secrets and hints his own father had given him. 

 

“I’ve--” His voice caught as he reached over Alan’s head to swipe at his own cheek, “--I’ve missed you all  _ so  _ much,”

 

Looking around them again, he frowned. Clearing his throat he sat up, 

 

“Where’s Scott?”

 

The others all pulled back, each of their faces falling as they realised the obvious absence. 

 

“He’s probably still down the hall,” Virgil murmured, shifting to stand, “Shall I…”

 

Jeff sighed, glancing to them again as he straightened, 

 

“If you guys don’t mind, I think maybe…”

 

“Go,” John nodded, finally dropping his arm from his shoulder, “We’ll still be here when you get back.”

 

He glanced back, squeezing Alan’s shoulder with a tight smile, 

 

“I promise I won’t be long.”

 

*

Pausing outside the door Val had pointed him to, he took a breath, unsure if he needed to knock or simply walk in. Assuming things hadn’t changed all as much, he knew exactly why Scott hadn’t appeared in the door as soon as he could have after John. If his eldest was still the same son he had left, he knew he would appreciate the brief warning. 

 

He didn’t wait for the acknowledgement after he knocked, choosing instead to step right in and face whatever he found. 

It didn’t surprise him that Scott was sat, head in hands, frame shaking. From what he had heard, he’d been trying too hard for too long and the relief was clearly too much for him to handle. 

 

As much as he wanted to deny it, he’d been in the exact position before. Scott had been younger, and both of them had been grieving but the comfort needed was the same. He was perhaps too well versed in comforting hurting son’s. 

 

He went to him, wrapping his arms around him as he sat on the sofa, holding him just as tight as he had the others. Taking a breath, he swallowed the sob of his own that threatened. Scott had been strong for too long, it was his turn to be the adult. For all he knew his brothers would have supported him, he also knew that Scott wouldn’t take that. It was Scott’s nature to be the one in charge, the one that had to feel like he had control and was holding everything up. 

There was only one person he’d let the control go to when it got too much.

 

“I’ve gotcha Scotty,” He sighed, rocking them slightly, “You’re not on your own any more.”

 

The grip on his arm was the only response he got as another sob caught him out, shaking him as he rocked and the realisation finally sunk in… he was  _ home _ . 

  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
